


A Grim Betrayal Of Love.

by ZuleFandom



Series: Dragon Age - Romance of our Dreams. [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Broken Heart, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feels, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loss of Virginity, NSFW, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Blind Betrayal, Sex, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, aaw, alistair appreciation week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-08 00:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZuleFandom/pseuds/ZuleFandom
Summary: Landsmeet was called and Alistair was betrayed by the Warden. Loghain recruited and Crown usurped by the Warden when he decided he would marry Anora. Listening to reason, voiced by his loving Mistress, the Warden - userper King - decree's that Alistair will be allowed to live in exile... but - as a consession to his soon to be Queen, Anora; the Warden orders that Alistair is to be taken to Fort Drakon, to be tortured first...





	1. Betrayal

_Love hurts._

 

This is arguably the most predominant fiction that has festered throughout the Ages. The truth about love is that it can mend the broken and make those that had felt its loss whole again. It is the spirit that strengthens the goodness of people, and it can be shared through the simplest act of kindness. It is the Light in the Darkness, a light that the Maker intended all his children to feel.

 

Love is the greatest gift the Maker gave mankind. It is a gift that lives on within us all, the Maker's children. Love is a gift that needs nurturing - it is the truth within us that knows life cannot be truly fulfilled without its experience.

 

Love is kind. Love is a higher plain of emotions, it draws us together and it can shatter seemingly insurmountable barriers. Love is the truest form of human nature, we give it unconsciously and crave it in return. It can be fulfilled through faithful love of our Maker and his Bride. As well as through blood bonds of family, and even the bond of dearest friends; but the greatest of all love is when one’s heart bonds to another.

 

This Love is only truly experienced when a friendship catches fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable. This forging of heart and spirit, this fire can save us. Even at our most desperate hour, held solid in Despair’s icy grip - love can pull us back from the precipice. And regardless of age, creed, race or gender, everyone can feel love… but, those with the will to venture this bond for another, it should be understood:

 

Love can also be betrayed.

 

It isn’t Love that hurts.

 

It's the inevitable Betrayal that follows...

 

* * *

 

Morrigan stood in the doorway of her room waiting, lips prim but eyes silently beckoning. She stood watching their embrace for a moment, unnatural, eerily yellow eyes prowling between the Warden and the Bard. Eyes moving briskly from Leliana to The Warden, Morrigan slowly drew her bottom lip into a teasing, infinitesimal bite. Her lashes fluttered coquettishly as her gaze met his, locked, unblinking – burning. Leliana stood firm, proud, watching the two for a few considerable – long - moments. Fingering her necklace coyly, Morrigan turned retreating into her assigned quarters, leaving the door ajar - expectant. The look on Morrigan's face should have made her stomach turn. It was predatory, eyes boasting, glinting with blatant smugness. No, more than that, it was egotistical, self-serving pride. The Warden, Benjin Cousland, held his expression grim as he looked back at the witch from where he stood with Leliana. Visage stern, brows pensive and eyes contemplative, emotions clearly warring back and forth within himself.

 

Was he truly so naïve?

 

He was, of course, so bold as to think he was fooling others, but how, after all this time could he imagine such of her? She was the nightingale.

 

_The... Nightingale._

 

Leliana was well versed in the Grand Game, had dealt with her fair share of failed plays, ergo - her face showed no indication anything was amiss. If not for the urgent severity of the situation, she may have even cooed at his adorable attempt to conceal it. Of course she could see the lewd scintillation vaunted in his eyes before he looked down at her. He was of Noble birth - trained and molded – undoubtedly the Fereldan Nobles would have thought nothing of it. Indeed, Benjin was not lacking perception or social aptitude, surely even some of the simpler Orlesian nobles would have been taken. But her? Certainly not.

 

Benjin whispered his – _regrettable_ \- concession to Leliana quietly, though the venture was a touch lacking in earnestness. Leliana ensured her eyes seemed resigned as he leaned down, giving her a peck on the cheek before turning to follow the apostate. Though she held hope of the promised outcome of Morrigan's proposition before the heavy door closed behind his figure, she still felt a twinge in her gut when she heard the sturdy deadbolt fall into place. It stung, and she took a moment or two to allow the pain to resonate - to steel her resolve. There were more important matters that needed her focus. She was a brilliantly skilled bard, but it didn’t take any notable amount of skill to deduced that Morrigan's motives were never of honest intent. Including her greedy interest in the Warden, Leliana clearly saw that Morrigan's actions were, in the end, for no one’s advancement except wholly her own. She just hoped the witch was as cunning in bed as she was in her wiles of self-preservation. Leliana had matters to attend, it would not do for her to be interrupted.

 

This rendezvous between the Warden and the Witch of the Wilds would no doubt have ill effects, possibly all of Thedas would suffer the consequences but, right now, it needed to happen. In her mind, the alternative was not an option. Benjin had promised her it was meant to save the life of the Grey Warden who would strike the Arch Demon down. Secretly, Leliana had prayed to the Maker and Andraste that Benjin would accept this task himself. She needed time. She loved him – he loved her… though, neither of them had actually said the words. Neither really sure what healthy, solid, honest, real love really was… so how could they find the words? She was a bard, song, and poetry her life, she loved him – and she couldn’t say it; not after Margolaine had controlled her with it.

 

She knew he wouldn’t forgive her for her actions and she could accept that. She knew they were not meant to be together, they each had their own duties to live up to after they all survived this forsaken Blight. She prayed to the Maker that if given time, eventually he would see – would understand. Actions spoke volumes louder than words ever could... It was obvious that the Maker didn’t see fit to allow them to be together, but she would always hold her love for him – wholesome, sure and treasured – for the rest of her life. He needed to live. She needed him to live. The only way to ensure he lived was for Benjin to do the ritual.

 

It could almost have been considered artistry, going as far as to agree that it should be him and not Loghain, doing and saying nothing to dissuade him. She truly did hurt, allowing her to profess just the appropriate level of distress at the idea of him laying with Morrigan. Sculpting her reply in such a way as to surpass the vocalizations of her distrust with her support for him to do what was needed, it was his duty. Leliana would endure any pain, any hardship and even break her own heart with his hate – anything - to ensure he lived.

 

Leliana made a show of watching him go, then glanced each direction of the corridor in her peripheral as she retreated into her quarters. Pulling a methodically scripted note from where she had concealed it in her inner breast pocket, she placed it carefully on his pillow before quickly donning her armor. She was sure to word the message in such a way as to not raise any suspicion, reasoning her need for distance; 'unable to bare the thought of another in his arms', and though she understood the need of it, she could not remain.

 

Thusly, she promised to reunite with him - but _regrettably_ confessed that h _er inner pride and self-worth_ would not allow her to return to his side until after the troops began mustering in the morning, just prior to the battle. Leliana was a smart woman, she knew Benjin and knew all too well that given the open opportunity to bed the witch, he would not be returning to her room until well after sunrise. Regardless, she was sure to assuage any guilt that could potentially urge him to follow her when - whether it be prematurely, or just inevitably come morning - he found her missing.

 

Looking out the window to the moon above, gauging the time of night, she knew it wouldn’t be long now - recognizing the quickly approaching changing of the guard. Finishing all the buckles and laces of her gear, she moved to the trays of food left in their shared quarters by the maid. She quickly poured the wine into the two large wine skins she had borrowed from Wynne and Oghren, filling the third, her own, with fresh water. She carefully wrapped up the generous helpings of bread, apples and a large selection of cheeses she had requested due to the double occupancy of herself and the Warden in the room. Wardens were known to have an insatiable appetite after all, thus her request for additional food had been fulfilled without question.

 

Packing the food, water, and wine neatly into her kit, the Nightingale slipped her pack on her shoulders, tightening her pack straps after slipping it over her bow and quiver. She then  secured and double-checked all her blades. First her throwing knives - a set of four concealed in each of her bracers - next, the double daggers strapped to the small of her back, her hips, thighs, inner and outer calves, and finally, the shanking blades hidden within the heels of each of her boots. When she was satisfied all we're secure and accessable she methodically counted her poisons, lockpicking tools and potions. At last, she took extra care ensuring the enhanced potency poultices and injury kits Wynne had crafted remained intact, packing them almost reverantly in her hip satchel, then she just patiently waited for her chance.

 

She saw the guards putting away their cards and emptying their flagons - clearing their station desk in anticipation of the coming guard change. Leliana hastily banked the fire in the hearth and extinguished the lone candle on the bedside table. Perched gracefully on the stone window sill, she kissed her Chantry pendant, tucking the beautiful symbol he had given her safely against her heart. She drew the curtains closed before closing the glass window pane behind her, waiting for the guards to conclude their chat and move on before silently making her way down the wall.

 

Her whispered prayers to the Maker ghosted fervently past her lips, apologies and pleas of forgiveness for her part in Morrigan's twisted blood-rite, but also vehemently reaffirming her vow; More than one Grey Warden life would be saved on this forsaken night.

 

With the last of her prayers evaporating into the crisp night air with her silent breaths,  shrouded by the song of stealth and shadows, the Nightingale stole away into the night.

 

 

* * *

 

  
“You look like you’ve been dragged through ten kinds of crap, friend. What’d you do?” An older prisoner asked him as he groggily tried to sit up.

 

Alistair hissed and halted the effort, clutching his broken ribs with his equally broken hands. Once his full consciousness came back to him he noisily ground his teeth to stop from screaming out in agony – only managing to stifle the vocalization of his extreme level of pain to a hollow, tortured growl. His entire body felt mangled, pain flaring with each beat of his heart – pain so excruciating the thought of his heart ceasing to beat sounded like the Maker’s most blissful aid. He slowly took stock of all his injuries as the pain roiled his stomach. His nose was definitely broken and his mouth tasted of ash and smoke. Yet, the taste was more than likely due to the red-hot pincers they mutilated his tongue with when his captors failed to find humor in his wisecracked wit.

 

His face was swollen, left eye barely able to open, right ankle was twisted at a grotesque angle - his right knee looking similarly odd. One of his shoulders felt dislocated, as did the alternative elbow. Though his back was torn and shredded by barbed whips and the sores caked in the filth of the dungeon floor, the entirety of his body was the same so he slowly laid back down, not daring to cause himself more pain. His body hurt, beaten, cut, whipped, physically stretched and torn, but the betrayal… her betrayal... It was an intricate pain, so blighted and raw - so caustic and deadening, the understanding that it was all too real brought tears to his eyes. He knew in time it would pass. That was what _people_ always said, wasn't it?

 

_The pain would pass..._

_Time heals all wounds..._

_The sun would still rise and shine..._

 

But what of his ability to feel its warmth? No one really spoke of that bit, did they?  Was he just supposed to act as if he wasn't shattered? She had been his sun, warmth, reason to fight - to save the world - his reason to breathe. Her betrayal - was there life after this? What for? It was likely his heart would never truly mend - how could it. Physical pain, at the length of torture he had endured, physical pain was nothing, he wished it was all he could feel.

 

The truth was that the body has a threshold for physical pain. Eventually, the mind numbs pain receptors, surpass the benchmark and the mind becomes tranquil, able to ignore physical pain. Emotional pain, however... Her Betrayal. That pain seared like a molten and ever constant lashing - a reminder he felt with every beat of his heart... his broken, betrayed heart. Betrayal, that's what true pain was and Alistair was still very much hypersensitive to it.

 

Was this what love earned him? Did he do something wrong? Did he deserve this? Even so, how could she? He'd never said it but she... His love - twisted and used against him. She stole it, stole his heart with her charming wit and good nature, as much as her undeniable beauty. She saw it, saw his love bared whole and used it to manipulate him. She was his friend, and she betrayed him - able to turn her back on him without a second thought. She took the love that he was too inexperienced to hide and used it to break him. How could she do this to him?

 

He refused to cry, but couldn’t stop the tears. He refused to grieve for her, but couldn’t swallow the sobs that tore from his soul the moment his consciousness surfaced. His body had been tortured, and he had no doubt there would be more to come. It hurt to breathe, let alone move but still, despairing sobs racked and shook his body. His heart was in shattered pieces, mind an inconsolable mess and yet his mind still - as it always did - reached for the thought of her. The soothing balm of her, his love.

 

He would have never done this to her, he would have cherished and treasured her – he did cherish and treasure her still. Perhaps that was his error all along… Allowing her to see it, allowing her to take his love and use him. He would never do what she did to anyone... ever. He knew what love was now, had felt it – knew its betrayal. He would never be broken and betrayed by another, ever again.

 

Even still, after all that she had done… he loved her. Perhaps given enough time and with enough diligence, his love for her would fade. Though, he knew it would be long after his physical pain if the injuries that mangled his body didn't kill him first. He almost prayed they would...

 

“Never mind,” The prisoner conceded sympathetically, understanding that Alistair’s unwillingness to answer was not personal – it was mechanical. “No one deserves what they did to you… rest, friend. I don’t think they’re near done with you…” Alistair thought he heard the man say as he drifted back to Maker-blessed unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter was inspired by Bruce Lee's famous quote in regards to love:
> 
> Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.
> 
> As well as https://www.descriptionari.com/, writing inspriration and prompts by daisy.


	2. The Maker's Bosom - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair realizes the Hereafter Glory of the Maker's Bosom, with Leliana at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the rating for this work has changed to Explicit, and new tags added. 
> 
> This was meant for Tumblr Alistair Appreciation Week 2018, RareShip Pairing but I didn't get it finished in time. So here it is for AAW Free for all Sunday. 
> 
> Special Thanks to my Amazing Beta, TokuTenshi. For without her edits, this chapter would just not feel right. XOXO

  
He was dead. They killed him. There was just no other explanation. He was dead, tortured to death. He must have died from his injuries, for he was now being cuddled in the Maker's bosom. And - by the Maker - The Maker's bosom was glorious.

  
  
He was warm, he felt clean, was no longer hungry or thirsty, and - Blessed be Sweet Andraste - he felt no pain. He was cocooned in a soft bed of clouds - floating among the heavens beyond the fade surrounded by the scent of Andraste's grace; the scent of the Maker's bride. His head was on the most blissfully pliable pillow, and the clouds swayed and rocked, delicately lulling him and quieting his mind. The floating sensation mingled with the song of birds on the wind, cooing softly. He stretched his body languidly, the barely dawning sunshine streaming down through the higher clouds, making his eyes squint as he groaned pleasurably at the sensation of his pain-free, fully intact muscles rippling. Groaning again as his body went lax once more, he concluded that nothing could make him move from this bliss. No, he would stay here forever - tightening his arms around the delightfully soft pillow, nuzzling his face deeper into its balming comfort - as it continued... humming Leliana's song and running its fingers through his hair...?

  
  
Wait - What? Holy Maker...

  
  
Alistair sat up with a start, blinking at the bright light and color that blinded him; though it seemed far dimmer - more akin to candle-light - than the burst of sun he had imagined. Without allowing his sight a moment to adjust he began blindly groping the clouds and pillows for purchase. It took another moment or so for him to register the warm body he felt next to him and soft, gentle hands cupping his face. The Hands - they were talking to him... Attempting to calm him, murmuring,

 

"You're free. It's over. You're safe. I've got you." And his name, in between shushing noises. Those delicate fingers massaging his scalp and caressing his cheeks - never ceasing their calming touch.

  
"You." He breathed, squinting to focus on his divine savior, a hallowed halo of dawning light - no, candle light and that of a braizer somewhere near by - shining about her fiery auburn hair. Still blinking, his eyes moved between the angelic features of her face and trying to observe the fade distorted room around him. "You're here. With me." Alistair whispered, deciding that the Maker's bosom was indeed all the Chantry professed it to be; having noted that he was as bare as a babe fresh from the bathwater - with her next to him in naught but a light shirt and brief-cut smalls. The clouds had formed a soft, but solid bed beneath him, the Maker's blankets having fallen low on his hips when he had sat up to turn toward her. He timidly cupped her cheek, his large, long fingers threading into the side of her silky hair, drawing his thumb affectionately over her rosy, smiling cheek - wiping away the moisture he felt. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her to him, hugging her reverently while touching his forehead tenderly to hers. "Leli." He sighed under his breath, lips smiling, eyes closed - not wanting to move on from this purgatory of after-life.

  
  
But, how?... No - why was she here? If she was here that meant... it meant - No. No, no... had she passed as well? Yet, she had told him as much, hadn't she. Leliana had said she had gotten him - she had come for him. Had she died trying to save him from the depths of Fort Drakon? The idea that Leliana had risked her life just to free him... that she had died trying to save him made Alistair want to weep, and he did. He buried his face in her hair, tightening his arms around her, and wept. Alistair wept, for the understanding that the beauty of her life had been extinguished, broke his heart. Though, the sensation of Leliana hugging him just as tightly as he held her, accompanied by her smiling sobs of relief, balmed his sorrow somewhat.

  
  
She was happy. She was here - happy, with him. Did that mean...? Would she? Had she sought him out? Had she chosen to spend her after life with him? He didn't dare ask aloud... she was here, with him - that was all that mattered now. Maker, this was bliss - truly, Maker-gifted bliss.

  
  
"Yes," Leliana said, voice quivering with emotion, smiling at the feeling of his own soft smile against her cheek, "Yes Ali, I'm here." She assured him softly, tucking herself into his embrace, kissing his cheek, pausing a moment then slowly moving to kiss the other. Opening her - Maker-sent - bright sky blue eyes again, her gaze locked to Alistair's simmering hazel eyes. She kissed his cheek more firmly, holding her lips against his stubbled blush for a long moment - trying to convey her relief, and feeling his arms and body tense somewhat. She slowly drifted her lips over his cheeks, leaving the softest kisses she could manage. She kissed back and forth a few times before halting a fraction from his lips. His breath caught audibly, the sensation ghosting across her lips, and he watched as the caress of his stuttered breath enticed her to lick her - angelic Cupid's bow - lips.

 

"Alistair," she whispered, it almost seemed like a question - a plea, an utterance of consent.

  
  
He licked his lips as he stared back at this divine woman - finally - in his arms. He brushed his nose against hers causing her to sigh softly, anticipation, longing and need parting her lips. He had only brushed his lips against her in the barest, but glorious Maker - the sensation was tempest. This was, without a doubt a gift of the Maker, one he did not intend to squander.

 

"Maker. Thank you," he prayed sincerely, before pressing his lips to hers once more. Both moaned obscenely - desperate and ravenous - the combination sounding more like a unified whimper as the sensation rocked them both to their core. It fluttered in their stomachs, the chaste, honest affection of the simplest kiss making both their toes curl and arms tighten around each other. After many - many, sweet kisses they soon became more and more heated.

  
  
Leliana seemed to understand his hesitance for which he was grateful because she took the lead. She teasingly nipped Alistair's bottom lip - his mouth opened slightly, and he unconsciously licked his lip. She smoothly flicked her tongue out, swirling it with his as she deepened the kiss, making Alistair groan. He immediately accepted her tutelage, with deep ravenous swirls of his tongue, mimicking those with which she had enticed him with; Leliana purred pleasurably into his mouth when he began to kiss her back.

 

Alistair quickly becoming more and more confident, adding teasing nips, flicks and sucks against her lips and tongue as Leliana's fingers thread desperately into his hair, pulling, tugging, trying to get him as close as possible - though, Alistair was doing the same, there was naught but a breath of space between them. Unable to get any closer, she broke their kiss and immediately began sucking and nibbling up his neck and across his chest, her hands roaming greedily over him. When she felt Alistair become shy once more, she brashly grabbed his hand, moving it from its tight hold on her hip down to cup her arse and arched her back. Inviting him to press his lips anywhere he could reach - anywhere he wanted... and, Sweet Bless'ed Bride - he wanted.

  
  
Clearly, the Maker saw fit to reward him further, he moaned loudly when she hooked her leg up around his hip, wrenching their bodies flush where they lay on their sides. Alistair groaned lewdly, consuming her mouth with ravinous haste as he began kneading the generous flesh of her arse in earnest. He devoured her neck, tasting, gently sucking, mildly bruising his love upon her normally alabaster flesh, now flushed with heated desire for him. He held her tightly in his arms as he diligently soothed the flushed and marked skin with the massaging caress of his lips and tongue - just as she was doing to him. Her hips were rocking and squirming against him - against his straining, entirely stone hard cock - beneath the blankets.

 

This was his most blissful fantasy and he did not hesitate to roll his hips, pressing his hardened aching cock against her in return, a harsh breathy moan expelling from him when he did. His brashness was rewarded when she immediately moaned erotically at the pressure and ground into his hips more firmly making him groan while moving to suckle and tease the lobe of her ear. He moaned a bit harsher against her neck when she reciprocated, sucking and nibbling his lobe then swirling her tongue against his ear and nipped it's shell as she moved purposefully against him. She moved and rolled her hips, mewling his name when he began rutting her in return each time. Leliana gasped and moaned her pleasure into his mouth as she recaptured his questing lips, kissing him hotly. He gripped her ass firmly, not allowing any separation to part them, pulling her to roll with him when she urged him onto his back. Leliana positioning him against the headboard as she straddled him, whilst they invariably devoured each other's mouths.

  
Leliana sat up, breaking their kiss and allowed her eyes to consume the sight of him - before she tugged her light shirt over her head, tossing it aside with a shy giggle at his expression. "Alistair... is this alright?" She asked softly, knowing the answer already. He was staring, unblinking, mouth slack-jawed. He licked his lips and swallowed hard, though his mouth was inexplicably dry as he stared at Leliana's perfect, plump breasts, so... so near his face.

  
  
He slowly looked up to her face, feeling his face flush bright red as she smiled knowingly back at him. "Ali, I would like to feel your hands on me. Would that be ok?" She asked honestly, she saw him try to nod making her smile widen. She slowly pulled his hands up her body, only releasing his hands when her breasts filled his palms. She sighed with an appreciative hum when he began circling the tight stiff peaks of her nipples with his thumbs, as he tested the weight of her breasts in his hands - all the while his gaze didn't leave her face. Dropping his one hand back to her hip, he hugged her closer and raised his other to cup her cheek. Drawing her face near, he kissed her with raw and honest devotion. Pulling back, Alistair swore, though it sounded more like a prayer,

  
  
"Maker's Breath - but you're beautiful." softly kissing her lips again. He could only hope that his expression could convey all that he had longed to tell her, that it told her he was not just speaking of what he was seeing, not just of her body. That he knew her, saw `Her' - all of her. Her breath hitched, unable to find words to respond, she surged toward him. Wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders - crushing their chest's together - Leliana pulled Alistair into a hard and desperate kiss. It was all teeth and tongue and passion, lustful sighs and panting moans as they began to explore each other with a more confident touch. After a time, Leliana paused, looking deeply into his eyes - her warm honesty bared she spoke in between tender caresses of her lips to his.

  
  
"Ali - I, I would like to touch you... more, taste you… if you'll allow me. And, I would like to feel you touch me... taste me - only if you want too. I want you." She professed quietly, her words making him whimper. He found the sound a mite embarrassing actually, but she seemed to appreciate it all the more.

  
  
"I, I want. but I, ah-I - Maker." He trailed off with a soft growling whimper.

  
  
"It's ok." She assured him, but he didn't truly hear her.

  
  
"I want this. This. Andraste Preserve Me - I've never wanted anything more... but, I - I've never." He finished, giving up and leaning his head against her neck.

  
  
"Alistair?" She asked softly, hoping the use of his full name would pull his focus from his self-doubt. Cupping his face. She urged him to look her in the eyes, gently holding his face so that he could not look away from her in shame any longer. "I know, and I want `this' too. I want to savor this - not rush." She said with no mocking. She kissed him again, meaningful and sweet. Pulling back she began moving as she inquired seductively, "So... why don't we start with you telling me what you like, humf?" She lilted curiously before she began kissing his neck and across his chest. She slowly moved her hand down, down - much further down. He groaned hoarsely, head tossing to the side and eyes rolling as Leliana brushed the blankets down his legs and smoothed the palm of her hand down his erection. "Is this ok?" She murmured to him sweetly, nuzzling his cheek, urging him to turn his face to hers as she wrapped her soft hand around his cock; stroking his cock at leisure awaiting his answer.

  
  
"Cunning, gorgeous, angelic… Maker-Perfect - minx - yes." He growled at her in between breaks of their kiss, making her break away and giggle. Grasping him more firmly, she began pumping his cock a little faster.

  
"Good?" She lilted against his lips after his breath hitched. Unable to answer he stuttered out a ragged sigh when Leliana rubbed her thumb over the slit of his cap - smearing the large drop of pre-come she found there. She was pleasantly surprised when he bit his bliss into the flesh of her shoulder and squeezed her breasts, tweaking her nipples.

 

“Oh.. Ali, yes. that's very good. Do that again... everywhere." She sighed as he swirled his tongue against her throat after sucking a love mark on her neck.

 

"That?" Alistair puzzled in a low rumble against the shell of her ear.

  
  
"Yes." she purred,

  
  
"Everywhere?" He mused pensively, the idea was tantalizing - indeed, it was making his mouth water.

  
  
"Yes..." Leliana repeated,

  
  
"Everywhere?... anywhere I want?" He teased, considering where to begin. he didn't want to miss an inch.

  
  
"Yes Ali, your mouth - on me - everywhere. Just like I'm going to do to you." She assured, against his slanted mouth. He wasn't certain as to what she was alluding to but the thought was pushed aside in favor of pulling her down to him and kissing her mercilessly.

  
  
Breaking the kiss, panting for breath with a pleased smirk, Leliana began kissing further down his abdomen. He could see that she savored each and every sound he let out - this woman was everything to him, and he would be as loud or as quiet as she wanted. Each and every time he made her moan, the sound made him soar; therefore if the sound of his bliss made Leliana happy, Alistair was going to be a very - very vocal lover. He could tell he had chosen correctly - that his noises of pleasure were just as erotic to her as her own were to him because his vocalizations seemed to make her even more eager in her machinations.

  
Though, she almost appeared to be flattered by his reactions. As if there was any question that he would choose this. Choose her as his first, his one and only. His fantasy, his rewarded wish for the eternity after-life, but it was he that was flattered in the most sincere. That she would even consider sharing this with him, just holding her in his arms gave him endless pleasure. Yet, she had deemed him worthy of this, worthy of the pleasure of her touch, and he would humbly accept anything she-Andraste's sweet soggy knickers!

  
  
Within a blink, Leliana had shifted herself down his legs, her eyes widened and her breath caught at the full view of him and her eyes met his. She smiled strikingly as she fisted his shaft, ducked her head - drawing his cock into her mouth. Furthermore, flicking her wrist, smoothly pumping up and down, she cupped his heavy sac with the other as she began to slowly bob her mouth down his length.

  
  
"Holy Maker!" Alistair exclaimed spastically. He had been shocked when her hot... Maker - so hot and so wet - mouth wrapped around his cock... it felt amazing; he prayed he wouldn't succinctly humiliate himself. If he didn't try to think of anything other than how overwhelming - world shattering - outrageously good her mouth on him felt, this experience would be over fast; disgracefully so. But, his thoughts inevitably did not drift far from his cock.

  
  
He had thought he had seen a spark, something akin to barefaced feminine appreciation flare in her expression when her hand had first palmed him, but he was a warrior, through and through. He was never trained to read people like rogues did, so he hadn't caught it fully. He hadn't really noted it as anything of significance or how honest and open her momentary pause really was. Thinking back to it now though, even obtusely distracted - by her mouth - as he was, he began to understand. Coupled with the glinting look in her eyes as she finally laid eyes fully upon him, and then... she smiled. That smile - that gorgeous, lascivious smile - Oh yes, that smile... it was unmistakably clear. She had been pleased. She was pleased - at the size of his manhood. He smirked, even as his eyes rolled with a sumptuous moan, even as his cheeks, neck and half his chest blushed at the flattery she had unwittingly shown him.

  
  
She had been surprised and pleased by the size and weight of his cock - it had taken a minute or so for Leliana to adjust... she was by no means inexperienced, Alistair knew that. They hadn't spoken of it at great length, but he knew she was. The swell of hubris he felt at the idea that he - a lowly twenty-year-old bastard, Templar wash-out turned grey warden deserter - could possibly be the man associated with the largest cock she had ever seen almost made him chuckle. The idea thrilled him, arrogantly thrilled him, and his pompous dick-sized chuckle did accidentally burst free. Though, it sounded more like an astonished moan, only mildly airing toward arrogance.

  
  
The giddy feeling bubbling up would more likely be termed as a snicker, a dumb, immature snigger. As if he were a young chantry prat once more - giggling in the dim candlelight at the tiny erotic portraits he and his friends managed to nick from the older boys. Maker - he was stupid. Leliana, a beautiful woman - the woman; the one that was his first and only love - was all but swallowing his cock and he was thinking about how he sized up compared to her past. But, he couldn't help it; her... her mouth - oh Maker - he needed to think of something else.

  
  
Alistair never really thought of himself as impressive, the last time he'd really seen another was as a Templar recruit in the communal bathhouse. He supposed compared to most of the others he would range on the rather large side; but now, having noted her pause, perhaps to a woman - even of experience - he wondered if it wasn't intimidation.

  
  
Did she feel obligated to do this.? This was a gift of the Maker, he was being given his greatest fantasy, but it was his fantasy... did she feel like she didn't have a choice? Even in the throes of his desire as he was, he would never allow her to do this to him if it was an obligation - regardless if it was real or not. It was clear to Alistair that Leliana was unused to his excessive girth, by the way she kept adjusting her mouth and jaw and he tried to tell her she didn't have to do this. That she never had to do anything she didn't want to. That he didn't want anything from her, that he would be happy merely to have her company. He didn't want this if she was uncomfortable or felt compelled. And certainly not if it hurt her, or was something she didn't want to do.

  
  
He tried to slow her, to pull her back up to him... he would be happy to just simply lay here and kiss her - but she only hummed, pressing her thighs together as she silenced his doubt by increasing her pace. Bobbing and slurping up and down his cock - Maker, he tried his damnedest to keep his eyes open, to watch her. His words were forgotten as Alistair all but howled, pecks and abdomen flexed rigidly, mouth hanging open, eyes shut, brow furrowed in a euphoric expression. Moaning ceaselessly, mentally praying – ‘Maker, Thank you for this glorious, beautiful woman.’

  
  
"Alistair... eyes open. I want you to watch me as I take you into my mouth." Leliana chided gently, he couldn't vocalize his agreement other than a strangled hoarse groan. Alistair nodded his head, an adorably bewildered look on his face. She smiled up at him, swirled her tongue around the bulbous head of his cock then took him into her mouth fully again, and Alistair felt her release his ever tightening sac; then…

 

'Sweet Glorious Maker, is she...? Oh... Thanks be to the Maker. The Maker is wise... The Maker is Good - Maker be praised'; Leliana was touching herself. He could see her, kneeling over his legs as she was - small clothes pushed entirely down her legs, disappearing into the void with a simple lift of her calve and flick of her ankle. Then with two fingers, she began rubbing tight, quick circles on a swollen nub protruding visibly amidst the ginger curls of her sex.

 

"Maker's Breath, Ohh Lels..." He rasped thickly, "Yes... let me look... so - so... beautiful... Maker yes!" he moaned as his eyes devoured the vision of her. "Ohh... Ahh-Fuck! Leli..." His voice pitched her name hoarsely when his cock twitched hard at the sight of Leliana spreading the wet folds of her sex wide for him to see. She then slowly - teasingly - dipped her two gracefully long fingers into her core, humming around his cock as she did.

  
  
The sight, the sensation, Maker - all of it drove him wild. Nay, he was bordering very near berserking, and his hands fisted so tightly that the thick, heavy cotton sheets adorning the mattress were beginning to tear. He licked his lips, biting into the flesh of his bottom lip with a growl; yearning for those digits in her wet cunt to be his own. His aching, needy cock was pulsing and twitching near constant now, but he didn't want this to end... he never wanted this fantasy to end.

  
  
He was fairly certain - undoubtedly certain - that she could taste him now, taste his seed, but it just seemed to arouse her all the more, make her wetter. And - Sweet Maker, she was wet. Her sex was slick and wet and glistening solely from pleasuring him. He could see it, hear her fingers spreading her slick in between the wet sounds of her mouth on him. He could even catch the heady scent of her now, an intoxicating aroma of feminine musk - it made his mouth water. Maker, he wanted to bury his face in her cunt.

  
  
As the thought took form in his mind, it was as if he had said it aloud. At that instant, her eyes locked with his. Her eyes, warm and knowing, Alistair could have sworn that she was smiling at him - even with her lips wrapped around the cap of his shaft. He wanted to bury his face - his fingers - his cock between her thighs. Deep within her, again and again until she shattered a thousand times over. The heated look she gave him as her eyes remained locked to his, heavily hooded, yearning eyes; it spoke volumes. It told him she knew, knew what he was thinking, knew what he wanted to do to her and knew how badly he wanted to do it. And, in return, that Maker-glorious look had also told him with a certainty beyond a shadow of a doubt - she wanted it too.

  
  
He growled and leaned forward but just as he was about to turn the tables on her she sucked him deeper. Maker - deep, so much deeper than she had earlier and held herself there. Her throat flexed and rippled, almost a sensation similar to swallowing as she sucked his shaft; pushing herself down so far, her nose brushed the curly hair surrounding his base. Alistair couldn't stop himself, throwing his head back as he moaned her name. His cock pulsed hard, and he knew she could taste him more prominently now. The amount of precum his cock was weeping had to be near constant. Yet, it only made Leliana hum salaciously around his cock, pleased with each and every twitch she felt.

  
  
"Awoh, Leli... please... I want to taste you. Maker - please. Leli please." Alistair was pleading now, barely discernible but he thought he managed to make out numerous please and thanks offered to not just herself, but to the Maker; this precious gift of her, of being able to touch her. Pleading for her not to stop, and thanks for her scintillating, beautiful mouth. At his confession she purred, deep and intoxicating, she pulled her wet digits from her core and pushed them into his mouth. Alistair groaned, cock throbbing in her mouth as he eagerly sucked her fingers, greedily tasting her. She hummed her approval, a low chesty sound, almost a chuckle at his willingness. She slowly pulled her fingers from his mouth, in order to thread her fingers with his, and he was thankful for it anchored him.

  
Alistair was losing is control and the Maker had clearly sent her to ensure it was entirely lost. His muscular back arched, accidentally pumping up slightly - deeper, but Leliana did not mind, just tightened her grip on their intertwined hands. His body was flushed - face almost entirely red, breath coming in hitches and spasms. Leliana tightened her grip on his hand, his other had unknowingly thread into her hair just shy of too tight. Alistair groaned her name roughly, when she refused to back off him - instead shielding her teeth with her lips. Clearly, she intended to finish him off, sucking him harder, faster and faster until he could no longer hold it back.

  
  
Alistair's breath stuttered, and he held it for a moment or two - feeling the tell-tale twinge, low in his gut signalling his climax was imminent. He tried to warn her, opening his mouth to form words but her eyes connected to his once more and he was lost. All the air suddenly rushed from him as he balked, body going rigid; but - Void take him - he still tried. He needed to warn her, "Leli - I... Sweet Maker!", He moaned, almost yelling, tapering to a ragged, euphoric groan. The sound blending in tandem with her erotic, blissful hums. Then, incredibly, amidst the summit of his world shattering orgasm, he comprehended fully - she wanted this, wanted to taste him...

  
With that realization clear in his mind, Alistair finally let go - moaning long, wanton and completely unabashed as he came. Her mouth was eager - practically greedy as he emptied himself in her mouth. He thought she appeared to almost giggle when she caught his expression as his groaning lilted curiously - lewdly - when he realized she was vigorously swallowing the copious quantity of his seed.

  
  
Huffing to catch his breath, it took him a few moments to allow the stars that had exploded behind his eyes to clear. When he was finally able to open his eyes fully he saw her smiling at him. She had yet to catch her breath fully, and she didn't really get a chance. Alistair pulled her toward him crushing their mouths together, devouring her mouth with his teeth and tongue - kissing her senseless. Groaning as much at the taste of his seed on her tongue as the wet - tremendously wet sensation of her slick cunt dragging over his hips, as he flipped her onto her back.

  
  
Leaving her once again breathless, he began moving down her body. Kissing, nipping, sucking and tasting her - as she had said - everywhere. Ever diligent, decidedly motivated to literally know her from head to toe, Alistair moved to kneel at her feet. He intended to - inch by tantalizing inch - make her moan and writhe with his hands and mouth. He began by massaging and kissing her feet.

  
  
Swirling his tongue, kissing and nibbling her heel, her beautiful high arch, the ball and each elegant toe. Planting a kiss on each of her perfect, soft pink Orlesian enameled toenails after swirling his tongue between each and sucking them gently, then repeated the entire sequence on her other foot. The romance and tenderness of his actions had her melting, making her become a thrashing, needy mess of arousal, but he had no intention of rushing. Back and forth he massaged with touch and taste, moving to her ankles, to her calves, and further to her thighs. All the while his gaze moved between the area of flesh he was reverently memorizing and her blissful, wanton face.

  
He paused, smirking cheekily at the state of lustful abandon he had caused her to become, entirely by his touch. Holding her heated gaze for a moment his eyes drifted lower. His gaze roamed hotly over her upper body, admiring the gooseflesh bloomed over almost her entire body by his attention. His eyes greedily observed her tight, achingly stiff, rosy nipples, and he absentmindedly lick the corners of his mouth, then followed the action by licking his lips fully.

  
  
Leliana's eyes followed his tongue, and she smiled. He assumed he probably looked similar to a Mabari licking it's chops while salivating, and his eyes like a Mabari questioning its Mate for permission to feast. She sat up somewhat, cupping his cheek and looping her arm around his torso. She nodded slowly - encouragingly - as she held his gaze firmly, drawing him down closer to her, to what he so desperately wanted.

 

"Yes, Ali. Everywhere. I want-" She gasped, "Ohh - Yes!" She moaned when he gripped her breasts firmly with both hands - kneading them and gently teasing her nipples with his thumbs. He admired the gold Chantry pendant - his pendant - he had gifted to her. He had given it to her as a symbol... he hadn't been able to tell her. So, he had pulled her aside in order to privately gift it to her, a physical embodiment of his faith, protection - his devotion... He'd wanted her to have it, wanted her to know - though silent and unspoken - that with it he freely gave his pure, honest and unyielding love to her. He believed she had understood, all the words his eyes and expression had been telling her as tenderly as he could, knowing the words could not be voiced aloud... and she had accepted it.

 

He looked at it now, where it was nestled in the cleft of her breasts, unsure how he hadn't noticed it before. He had only seen a delicate gold filigree when she had been pleasuring him, then it struck him that it had been there all along. It had likely been pulled to her back when she had stripped off her shirt, and she had left it there in order to be unhindered or distracted by it when she bent forward over him. Seeing it now though, knowing she wore it - had always been wearing it... His eyes met hers, and he smiled softly. She appeared to blush, understanding his pause,

  
  
"I never take it off... It is with me, always. You are with me - always, Alistair."

  
  
He kissed the pendant with chaste veneration, as he lifted his own - a matching Chantry pendant crafted of Silverite, hanging around his neck. Leliana had found it and gifted it to him after their ordeal at Soldier's Peak. A similar feeling passing silently - words unspoken - between them when she did, he had even kept the original binding she had offered him, to secure it; one of her own leather hair bands, that she had oiled and stretched into a length of cord.

  
"Nor do I... Always." He agreed brokenly as a whisper. Kissing his own pendant, then kissing hers again as he squeezed her breasts together. He began to massage them once again, Leliana softly whimpered in pleasure when he rolled her nipple between his forefinger and thumb. He smiled against her breast as he latched his mouth onto the nipple of her other, sucking a touch firmer in response to the sound he'd elicited.

  
  
Her back arched, pressing her breasts into him, fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured her breasts. Marveling at his ability to entice the tips of such soft womanly flesh, to arouse stiffly at his slightest touch. And Maker, the sounds she made when he sucked those tight, beautifully hard nipples into his mouth - he would never forget this. But he was determined to learn more. He was quickly gaining more and more confidence as his mouth and hands massaged her - everywhere - cataloging each fluctuation in volume, pitch, and the way her body reacted. Settling himself between her legs - not demanding or telling him what to do – she only voluntarily lifted each leg; allowing him to position her exactly how he wanted.

  
By that simple act, he understood the greater message, there was no pressure, no tension between them here. She was offering herself freely, allowing him to do whatever he wanted, however he wanted - because she wanted it too. She was here with him. this was her fantasy too. And just like that, a knot of nervous energy Alistair had been previously unaware of, released within him. Nothing he did would be judged for his lacking, just as he would never judge her for her past experience. In this place, this time - they were together, that being said, he intended to give her as much pleasure as she had given him. Looking up at her, breathing in the delicious scent of her wet sex mere inches from his mouth he whispered, "Tell me."

 

She sighed at the sensation of his warm breath on her moist sex. "Anything Alistair. Anything you want. Kiss it. Lick it. Suck it. Aww-fuck!" She gasped, trailing off into a sensual moan. He had licked her firmly with a broad deep stroke of his tongue, groaning deeply with bliss the moment she had offered her suggestions. After though, he paused - tongue still extended as he blinked up at her; as if completely forgetting about the taste of her still on his tongue, how shining and drenched his face was from her desire, or her soaking wet, wanton cunt a fraction from his lips; Alistair stretched his neck somewhat to look up at her fully as he blurted,

 

"I've never heard you swear before. I didn't even know you knew how.”

  
  
She giggled shyly covering her cheek with her hand as she mumbled, "It felt good. Really, really good... even better than I imagined."

 

He blinked at her another few times before his expression morphed into something more akin to playful smugness. After a stupefied moment or two passed his eyebrow quirked ruefully as he asked, "You... imagined - me - doing...?" Punctuating his hanging question with a languidly slow - thoroughly in-depth exploration of her cunt with his tongue. By the end, Leliana was breathless for he had her moaning for the entirety of it.

 

He had begun with a few unhurried, teasing flicks of his tongue against the delicate skin of her perineum, then proceeded to drag his tongue broadly up to her center, delving his tongue partially into her core. Alistair hummed with interest - fascinated by her pooled slick he found there, he paused for a moment or so, in order to savor the taste of her. Groaning blissfully, he consumed her delicious slick with a number of dilatory, yet purposeful lapse of his tongue, before moving on. He continued by pulling his tongue up to the top of her sex, swirled his tongue around her clit, sucking it mildly in between fluttering flicks of his tongue. Smirking with a raised eyebrow, he released her clit from his mouth, planting a final chaste kiss upon it before he affirmed, "That?"

  
  
"Maker, Alistair..." She moaned, taking a few deep steadying breaths, she said, "Yes, I imagined you - doing that - to me... and so much more - so many times." His eyes were already hooded heavily but they seemed to flare, simmering with heat because he very clearly understood her meaning. Maker help him - he felt his cock stir, pulsing back to life at her declaration. Her honest confession set his blood aflame, he would probably blow his seed at the merest friction from the mattress. He needed to get himself together - pay attention to her, learn her - ensure he was all she imagined and more.

  
  
With an almost greedy snarl, Alistair gripped her ass and hips hard as he drove his face between her thighs; sucking the swollen nub into his mouth, flicking and swirling it mercilessly with his tongue. Liliana screamed his name wildly when he did. Moving down, he probed with his tongue, firm and thick - pushing it into the entrance of her core. The action making his nose press into her soft curls - press against her clit. The reaction he got - well, he wanted it again, and again, and again. He shifted somewhat, to allow him to test her opening with the probe of his finger, she moaned louder - pitching on the edge of needy. He growled, predatory and proud at the sound, pressing into her with more certainty, adding the stimulation of his tongue against her clit. Sweet Maker, she was intoxicating - absolutely divine, as she cried out,

  
  
"Maker! Yes - Yes Ali – Ohh… feels so good - more. Ali please," Leliana whined, arching her hips grinding her cunt into his mouth. Alistair groaned against her clit, the lascivious triumph he felt at her lustful plea making his eyes roll. Leliana's mewls, in that desperate tone, Maker, it was so arousing the sensation sent a thrill straight to his cock. Pressing into her with a second finger and applying firm pressure to his mouth, Leliana wailed in pleasure, "Yes! Oh, Ali! Yes - Just like that! Maker Alistair - perfect!"

  
  
Alistair moaned at the sight and sound of her, he had dreamt of this, but - Sweet Glorious Maker the reality of it... He could honestly say that never in a hundred Ages, would he have thought anything could be more exquisite than when he had laid eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes. He prayed that Andraste would not strike him down because Leliana's pleasure, to him, was absolutely unequivocally - exquisite. He would do anything and everything she wanted, so long as she kept looking at him, the way she was yelling, screaming, pleading his name - it was nearly his undoing. He fought to keep from rutting into the mattress as hard as Leliana was rutting her glorious, delicious, soaking cunt against his face. She was crying out his name, the reality of his fantasy was so much better than he had imagined as well, there were no words for it.

  
  
Alistair felt her legs tremble, and her breath hitched. Her fingers scrabbled for purchase on his shoulders, in his hair then gripping his offered free hand urgently, all she could coherently voice was "Yes" and "Ali", then her back arched, bucking up off the mattress, legs and stomach muscles flexing hard and she moaned - mewling into a long drawn-out high pitch squeal, in praise of his name. " Alistair..."

 

It began loud, but it was long, so long that by the end it was a low, husky, unintelligible sound. That sound though - that Maker blessed, divine sound - it was beautiful. Leliana released his hand, threading her fingers in his hair, urging him to lull his ardor. She had yet to open her eyes, fingers still trailing aimlessly in his hair and toying with his ears as she sighed and giggled, like what he was doing was the softest tickle. She had told him to do anything he wanted so he stayed right where he was, pressing tender kisses to her quivering inner thighs, and lapping tenderly at the folds of her sex.

  
  
If he had his choice and Maker willing, he would never leave. Leliana, on the other hand, had other plans. She pulled him up her body so quickly he almost fell on top of her. Alistair had only just managed to wrap an arm behind her shoulders and get his other elbow under him to brace his weight off her before he landed heavily between her parted knees. They sank deeper into the mattress, but she seemed to be pleased by his weight on her, for she pulled him down further, kissing him hard. Both moaned into the kiss, hot and needy and soon their bodies were grinding together.

  
  
Leliana mewled slightly, rolling her hips up - rubbing herself against his hard cock, and Alistair broke the kiss with a ragged groan. He stared down at Leliana as they both huffed in gasps of air. The expression on her face seemed timid, as if she had done something wrong, like her actions had crossed some invisible line. Gently trailing her hands up and down his back she began to quietly stammer, "I'm sorry... I - I understand... I'm sorry, we don't have to. We... we can stop - I shouldn't have..."

  
  
He cupped her cheek with his free hand, silencing her apologies with a simple, chaste, tender kiss making her smile against his lips. Pulling back in the slightest, dropping his hand to her hair, toying with the single braid near her ear he asked, "Leliana... are you sure?"

  
  
She pulled her arms from around his body in favor of cupping his face in her hands. Looking him straight in the eyes, she said. "Yes." She kissed him softly again as she wrapped an arm around his body once more. She shifted under him, wrapping her knees up over his hips, hooking her calves over the backs of his thighs, and threading their free hands together, " Alistair, I promise - I'm sure."

  
  
He took a deep breath, leaning his forehead against hers, tightening his fingers with hers as he kissed her. It wasn't long before they were once again writhing. With doubt no longer plaguing him, Alistair didn't think twice, when he felt ready he broke their kiss. Their eyes locked, and she nodded almost imperceptibly as she squeezed his hand. Squeezing her hand in return, looking back at her with all the love and devotion he felt for her, he smoothly rolled his hips up.

  
  
The blissful sensation was slick and warm, but oddly not what he expected, furrowing his brow in slight confusion as Leliana moaned beneath him. He rocked back, then forward again, pushing further until he felt his tip slip out of the heavenly warmth and into coarse hair. Alistair leaned away from the Maker-sent woman beneath him to inspect where they were joined only to find, much to his embarrassment, that they were not. His cock had been sliding between her soaked folds and stroking Leliana's sensitive nub, giving her pleasure but not how he intended. Alistair began to feel that the entire thing was a trick, that he was not to be rewarded in the afterlife with the company of the woman he loved, but to be taunted with the idea of his ultimate pleasure and being incapable of finding it.

  
  
He pulled away as much as Leliana's legs would allow him to retreat and when he did not attempt to move forward again, she squeezed his hands to get his attention. Leliana freed one of her hands from his and the doubt that he was in paradise doubled until she gently cupped his cheek and drew him forward to meet her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. She trailed her hand down his chest, easing him up to create a gap of space between them. He sucked in a breath as her hand once again wrapped around his length, giving him a slow pump before guiding him back to her heat. Leliana drew the tip up and down her folds, making the both of them moan in wanton desire. She came to rest lower than before and lifted her hips slightly, gently breaching herself the bare minimum on Alistair's generous cock.

 

"Here", she sighed airily, finding his eyes once again. "Right here."

  
  
Alistair rolled his hips forward as she removed her soft fingers, following the angle she encouraged with the pressure of her legs wrapped around him and was nearly overwhelmed by the feel of sinking into her at last. Leliana captured his mouth in a slow, sweet kiss as he entered her, moaning into his mouth, unified with his heavy groan. The coupling of their luxuriating lips and tongues, mimicking the sensual veneration of their coupling bodies.

  
  
Glorious Maker, he was laying with the woman he loved, laying within her... Unable to stop himself, Alistair bucked forward fully and Leliana moaned sumptuously as he hilted himself within her completely. Her legs tightened, urging him to hold and he did. He held himself still - he didn't dare move. He loved her, and he was buried as deep as possible within her... but now that niggling doubt was returning, had he hurt her with his lack of self-control? His heart was pounding so hard, it was loud to his ears. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm his racing heart. He was sure she could feel each pulse of his body - feel his panic, his fear of causing her pain. Leliana squeezed their joined hands, urging him to relax against her but his expression was full of concern as he opened his eyes to look at her, he whispered, "Did I - Maker, Lels have I hurt you?"

 

"No," She told him, pressing on his back as she partially sat up, so that she could touch her forehead to his and pulled him down flush with her once more, chest to chest. "I'm not hurt. You are a very... very big man Alistair. I am just taking a moment to savor the way you feel and allow my body to adjust. Being with you feels... I feel stretched and full, it feels incredible. I could never have imagined... this - that it would be so... perfect." she trailed off. Flexing her fingers in his, rocking her hips, and brushing her lips against his, she whispered, "And now... we're connected in three places," before kissing him fully.

  
  
Alistair tightened his grip on her, groaning in pleasure at her words. She shifted her hips, rolling them up into him, and he mimicked the rhythm. Pulling back when she did, pumping forward when she did. It was not flawless, but it didn't need to be, because it felt natural. The sounds of their wet heated flesh becoming one, mingled with Leliana's high moans and Alistair's low groans, creating a unified opus of passion that surrounded them. There was nothing but this, nothing but their need to feel each other, and Alistair made love to Leliana with every dram of his soul. After a time, their bodies became damp with heated perspiration, but the taste of their sex sweat flesh on the other's tongue only served to make them more greedy.

  
  
The length of time they had been making love was now unquantifiable, lost to the blissful high of their unified bodies. For not only did Alistair have Grey Warden endurance, he also had Templar fortitude and Warriors stamina, but even those were thread-bare by this point. The tight, hot feel of his cock - his very recently virginal cock - buried to his balls in the love of his life's cunt, had that effect on a man. The sounds he was pulling from her - Maker, she was divine... but Leliana's moans and mewls had begun pitching toward desperate. Her inner walls were tightening, flexing and rippling, he felt certain she was close. Alistair wasn't certain of how much longer he could delay his own demise - but he had to. He absolutely needed to make her come again, needed it - needed to feel her come with his cock deep inside her, so he rasped,

  
  
"Tell me... Leli, what do you need?"

  
  
"Oh - Ali... I'm so close. Harder... Deeper... Faster..." She cried out when he did exactly what she asked for - in exactly the order she had asked for it. "Ohhh - Yes! Like that... Yes, Alistair’awoh... Perfect!" He had pulled her legs higher up his waist, almost to his chest as he bent her so that her lower half was curved upward. Her bottom was practically sitting on his thighs as he knelt, leaning entirely over her, he began pulling out and slamming down into her.

  
  
He rutted against her fast and hard, as he bore down on her with his full weight behind each thrust, his balls slapping against the entrance of her rear, and his pelvis grinding her clit. “Perfect... Like that?” Alistair asked, a touch boastful as he encouraged her exquisite cries of pleasure to become louder and louder with each and every thrust, his own pleasurable sounds rising in tandem.

 

“Fucking Maker, Lels... You're glorious..." He rumbled, biting and sucking her ear and whispered, "I lov..." His heated confession was overwhelmed and forgotten when she wailed wildly with pleasure.

  
  
"Yes - Alistair... yes! Perfect - just like that... Ohh! Maker… feels so good. You... feel - so - good... Ali," She wailed, as her fingers scraped down his back, and gripped his arse hard, kneading the flesh greedily.

  
  
“Oh, yes - you like that Lels? Just like that?" He grunted teasingly. She pulled him down to her, forcing him to drop to his elbows as she pulled him into a messy, sensually erotic kiss, making him groan. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, sweat-damp skin making them stick together somewhat as they hugged each other close. Even still, their needy, urgent pace did not diminish in the slightest, Leliana's snapping hips met Alistair's hammering thrusts - eagerly. With his weight now anchoring her hips to the bed, the viscous quality of their sweat-dampened skin created an incredible friction as his pelvis ground into Liliana's clit. He continued at a punishing pace, kissing her deeply as he rut his cock into her, equally as deep. In truth, any separation of their hips was scarcely discernable now, he had begun grinding into her heavily with short, hard thrusts, ensuring the blissful pressure he was giving her clit was ever constant.

  
  
Alistair assumed what he was doing to her now would well and truly be termed fucking, but to be fair - he did so with no less love; He was quite literally fucking Leliana into the mattress, and she loved it. The sound of a glass shattering went unnoticed as it fell from the bedside table, sent from its perch by the vibrations caused by the now creaking and somewhat splintering sound of the wood bed frame. The sturdy heavy frame sounding as if it had once been anchored in place, was now shaking and scraping along the wooden floor boards. Though the racket caused by the heavy headboard pounding against the wall only served as the percussion, to the blissful harmony their bodies were creating together; both moaning and praising each others names near constantly.

  
  
"Yes... just like that... just like that - Maker, you're perfect Alistair - Yes... ohhh, Alistair I'm..." Her words were lost in a chorus of yowling moans. Alistair wasn't certain if the sounds were from Leliana or himself, probably both. For the moment Leliana's pleasure met its peak, her cunt clenched down around Alistair's cock hard, pulsing around him in waves and shivers. Alistair swore, throwing his head back when the sensation sent him careening toward his summit. His eyes rolled when stars blinded his vision, dragging in a ragged breath as his own orgasm slammed into his senses. He howled her name - pumping erratically as he came deep within her. Her core was still milking and caressing his throbbing cock as she hugged him close. Leliana kissed him softly, murmured sweet nothings to him, soothing him through his aftershocks.

  
  
He didn't know what he had done in life to earn such a reward in the hereafter, but neither could Alistair afford any spare thoughts on figuring it out as his mind, soul - his entire being - was consumed with euphoric bliss. Here he was with the woman he had longed for, cherished and loved from a distance for very near an entire year, and he had pleased her. Alistair knew he had to be dead because despite never having lain with a woman before, there was no way it could ever feel so amazing. His skin itself was buzzing, his head weightless, and the perfect woman in his arms was gloriously warm and soft. His body had never known such pleasure, but this went beyond what mortals could feel - this was his heart and soul reaching out and finding that missing piece that had eluded him all his life.

  
Alistair felt the fantasy slowly fade back into the plush clouds it started with and Leliana's words drifted together into a constant stream of angelic tones. The Maker's bosom was a glorious place and Alistair sank deeper into oblivion as he waited for it to begin all over again.

 


End file.
